Day 3 – I Swear Nobody Gave Me Crampons
An early start to the morning as we packed our bags and walked over to the cable car station which would take us up the platform up the mountain. From there we would take another dreaded chairlift that would take us to camp. Thankfully this chairlift was less stressful, predominantly because I had assessed and sufficiently concluded that the fall between the chair and the ground was survivable. Once we reached the highest platform, we carried our bags, barrels and all our equipment up to the “Red Fox Campsite,” the refuge we would be calling home for the next three days.
Our first objective on the mountain was to collect water from the glacier stream running down the mountain. This was the first time I had properly walked on snow and I did not manage to maintain my balance for very long, slipping and grazing my palm on some rocks. As a result I had to nurse a small, but irritable burn on my hand for the remainder of the trip.
Our accommodation was comprised of insulated metal crates with one bunk bed located in each corner of the room, so there are four bunk beds in total. The girls had a smaller, cosier crate to themselves while Mohammad and I commandeered the “master suite.” We were spoilt for choice on which bed we would deign to sleep in. I concluded that it would be strategic if he slept in the bed above mine to consolidate the warmth in one corner of the room so as to maximise the body heat, sort of like a human hearth, as it was to get colder at night.
A practice session with the crampons followed. After a slightly embarrassing declaration that I wasn’t given any (only to find them at the top of my bag) we proceeded to learn how to walk with them on the ice. Unfortunately, mine kept falling apart whilst trying to tie them around the boots, which prompted Lisa to let me continue walking normally in the snow with my boots.
The views of the Caucasus mountains with their icy plains and the two massive hills of Elbrus looming ahead of us was unarguably one of the most beautiful scenes I had ever happened upon. We walked around picturesque crevasses on the slopes and ascended to 4000m just below the Pruit Hut checkpoint to make sure again, that our bodies had adjusted to the altitude. It was on this day that I had started to experience a mild headache. We retreated to the camp, passing the remainder of the evening playing Uno and once again (over)shared some stories. Tomorrow would be our first real test… and indeed it was.
Day 4 – Whiteout
The purpose of walking up to the distinctive Pashtakov Rocks at 4,800m was to once again get our bodies adjusted to the high altitude in order to be able to sustain making the final push to the summit. We began our walk up to the Pruit Hut checkpoint, dragging our feet sturdily through the snow. About an hour in, Lisa, leading from the front, received a phone call. Within a few seconds of answering, she swung around, and started shouting for all of us to retreat down the mountain. The winds were growing stronger and the snowfall heavier. None of us was sure of what was happening, and we rushed against the wind downwards — a heartbreaking process of undoing all the hard work we had engaged in going up. Lisa pointed out the nearest crate 100m from us and ordered us to retreat as fast as we could in there. Like an army general in the midst of battle she shot down questions and roared for us to hurry in there as soon as possible.
We entered the crate, which happened to be the kitchen of the Rahhalah group who previously climbed the mountain. A slightly more relaxed Lisa was then able to explain the situation. There was a strong current of static electricity in the atmosphere, which could create a charge for lightning to strike. There have been mountaineers on Elbrus who have perished from being struck by lightning, and on a barren slope we were all sitting ducks. We waited in the kitchen praying for the weather to improve but our urgings were futile. There was no choice but to retreat as we made our way down, with the icy winds fiercely piercing our eyes, ears, noses and any other visible orifice on our faces. In our haphazard descent we didn’t have the time to pull on our ski goggles.
That day was a severe blow to the morale of the team. It was at that point that we realized we may not be able to reach the summit at all due to risks that were beyond our control. We now only had one window – Thursday morning – to attempt to summit.
Day 5 – Pushing Forward
An early night’s sleep the previous night ensured that we were all up early, more determined than ever, to achieve our goal. However, it was a day that started off with emotions running high, as Lisa was stuck at the bottom of the mountain (she had left to get more supplies and equipment) and the chair lifts were not working due to the poor weather from the day before. The only alternative was to jump on a truck and drive to the camp which would take some time due to the extreme caution of the driver on the steep bends and turns. I found myself yearning for the foolhardy, speed racer driver that had taken us from the airport to our hotel on the first day. We were getting restless, worried that it might be too late in the day to try heading to the rocks. The mini bout of bubbling panic subsided as soon as Lisa arrived.
We took a snowmobile that transported us to the same point where we had been forced to retreat from the day before. This would save us an hour. Gliding through the white desert against the backdrop of the Caucasus mountains is one image that will forever be engrained in my memory. We hopped off the vehicle and began to push forward, controlling our breathing (Lisa called it pressure breathing), pacing ourselves, until we reached our destination; the Rocks. The air felt thinner, and as we avoided thoughts that were reminiscent of suffocating in a coffin, we hung around, calibrating our bodies to the significant change in atmosphere.
Morale was lifted back at camp, although the effects of the altitude had taken its toll on me as I struggled to finish my soup at lunch. A little relaxation, some water and some funny (at this point the possibility of over sharing was a distant memory) stories restored my senses. We spent the rest of the evening enjoying the beautiful sunset and playing our team game Uno. Follow the climactic ending to Fahd’s journey next month!
Words + Photos By: Fahd Abu Aisha
